


Just Go With It

by IndecisiveAndUncreative



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Meet-Cute, Sort Of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-15
Updated: 2019-11-15
Packaged: 2021-01-31 04:09:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21439990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IndecisiveAndUncreative/pseuds/IndecisiveAndUncreative
Summary: Derek gets stood up but a cute stranger swoops in to save his night.
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 17
Kudos: 622





	Just Go With It

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This idea was distracting me from my Nano project so I had to get it out. I have a strong feeling that I'm gonna edit this later but I'm throwing it up for now.
> 
> As always, unbeta'd, all mistakes are mine

Sitting in an overcrowded restaurant with scents that he can’t get out of his nose no matter how hard he tried to block them out, Derek decided he was never going to take Erica’s advice on dating ever again. He had “put himself out there” like she suggested on a dating app that she installed for him. He had handfuls of people interested in him from the beginning but 98% of them just commented on his body. Some of the messages he got on Erica’s app rivaled ones he received during his short stint on Grindr (yes, he had tried Grindr). Three weeks in, he was surprised (admittedly, he was  _ pleasantly _ surprised) that someone actually seemed to take genuine interest in him. They messaged each other for about a week before Derek asked him out to dinner. That brought him here. Sitting in a restaurant. Alone.

30 minutes. His date was 30 minutes late. Well, if Derek was honest, almost 45 minutes.

The waitress had been by several times since Derek arrived but he had yet to order anything other than water, insisting on waiting. At first, she nodded in understanding. As time went on, her smile turned less polite and more pitying. Even worse, the longer he waited and the more he assured the waitress, the louder the whispers around him seemed to become.

Being a born wolf, Derek was used to hearing the conversations around him. Hell, he was used to hearing conversations  _ about _ him. Now, he was hearing the other dining patrons gossiping about the “poor guy” sitting by himself. They talked about him being, obviously, stood up and refusing to believe it.  _ But who in their right mind would stand him up? _ A girl with sharp, overwhelming perfume was whispering to her friend behind a drink that was more sugar than anything. _ He’s so damn hot. I’d climb him like a tree. _

A deep growl threatened to escape but he swallowed it and went through a mental list of all the reasons why flashing his eyes at the girl was a bad idea. Yeah, he knew what he looked like and he knew what assumptions people made about him. He hated it.

As he scowled down at his phone for the hundredth time and ran through the quickest exit route in his mind, the chair opposite him screeched on the hardwood floor. His head jerked up and his eyes landed on, hands down, the most attractive man he’d ever seen. A man that was, most definitely,  _ not _ the guy he met online. The guy from the profile was attractive adjacent with an average face, green eyes, and blond hair; however, he couldn’t hold a candle to Derek’s tablemate.

Smooth, pale skin with smatterings of moles and messy brown hair that looked like those strong, long fingered hands had been ran through it several times. Eyes like whiskey in a sunset met his and a bright grin bloomed on the stranger’s lips.

“Oh my God, I’m so, so sorry that I’m so late, babe.” When he spoke it was just this side of too loud. Loud enough for everyone around them to hear, Derek noted. “Work was crazy.” His voice was deeper than Derek expected. He leaned over the table and made a show of pressing his cheek against Derek’s. To everyone else, it probably looked like he was kissing Derek’s cheek, saying hello, but he actually whispered in Derek’s ear, “If I’m overstepping and you don’t want this, just tell me,” before sitting down. 

When the man leaned over, his scent rushed Derek. It was mostly sweet with underlying notes of something spicier. Derek thought of vanilla chai with cinnamon. Or a spice cake. After a night of cloying smells, this stranger’s made Derek’s wolf rumble happily. (And, if Derek’s wolf was also weirdly happy about the cheek touching, well, no one else had to know.)

Derek quickly schooled his features, aware that his mouth was gaping and his eyebrows were creeping into his hairline. This man was pretending to be his date? When Derek took a beat too long to respond, the man cocked a brow just slightly, in a “is this okay?” kind of way.

Derek put a smooth, understanding smile on his face and brought his brows down to a more acceptable level before answering.

“I was starting to get a little worried,” Derek said. He didn’t add as much volume as the man did but he was still loud enough to be heard by surrounding patrons. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw several people finally shift focus back to their own dates and even heard a few grumbles about his “date” showing up and ruining their own chances. Without so many eyes on him, some of the tension in Derek’s shoulders started to release.

“I’m Stiles, by the way,” the man – Stiles – spoke again. This time, his voice only carried to Derek. “Seriously, if I’m overstepping here, let me know. Whoever didn’t bother to show up is an ass and if you’d rather go home, I’m absolutely not gonna make you stay but you looked miserable and kinda sad and it kinda made my heart hurt but I don’t want to make you uncomfortable so, if you want out, just say so or throw your water on me or something but I’m definitely down for a fake date if you are ‘cause you seem nice and you’re, like, really attractive and oh my God I’m rambling, I’m gonna shut up now.” Stiles’ mouth snapped shut and Derek actually heard his teeth clack. A bright pink blush crept up Stiles’ neck and spread over his cheeks.

Judging from the heat on his face, Derek guessed that he was sporting a blush of his own. He wasn’t used to someone like Stiles. He cleared his throat.

“Um,”  _ good start, genius, _ “I’m Derek.” He licked his lips and tried to force his brain to form words.

Before he got his vocabulary to cooperate, seemingly out of nowhere, the waitress appeared beside their table and asked if they were ready to order. Stiles looked at Derek. It took him a second to realize that Stiles was asking permission, still giving him an out if he wanted it.

He nodded back and smiled, possibly his first genuine smile of the night. Stiles’ responding grin made his heart trip. 

The rest of their “fake date” was… amazing. Derek kept discreetly pinching himself to make sure he was actually awake but, all too soon, it came to an end. 

As they stood outside, Derek was taking the night air into his lungs, trying to rid himself of the restaurant. Stiles scuffed his shoe on the sidewalk.

“So,” he said, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. All the confidence he had earlier seemed to have left itself at the door and he was, suddenly, awkward. 

Derek turned to face him, they were standing closer than he had thought. He heard Stiles’ heart rate pick up as he got in his space but he didn’t move away. 

“Would you go on a date with me?” Derek whispered. “A real one, this time.”

“God, yes.” The resulting grin was a relieved one. 

Derek realized that Stiles had thought he would just say goodnight and leave it at that. He fought a frown at that thought, bringing out his phone instead. He unlocked it and handed it to Stiles.

“Give me your number?”

Seconds later, his new contact read: “Stiles, your fake date.” Derek chuckled. He pocketed his phone, looked back up in time to catch Stiles staring at his lips, and was reminded just how close they were standing. 

If he just leaned in, maybe tilted his head a little bit...

The “Cops” theme coming from Stiles pocket made them jump. 

“Hey, Dad,” Stiles said, holding the phone to his ear. Derek tried not to smirk at how unsteady his voice sounded and he forced himself to tune out Stiles’ conversation with his father. 

After ending the call, Stiles blew out a breath and ran a hand through his hair. “I have to go. I’ll, uh, see you later?” His eyes were hopeful.

Derek nodded. 

He leaned in and kissed Stiles cheek. “Goodnight, Stiles.” 

“Goodnight, Derek.”

Turning, he walked away, feeling Stiles eyes on his back the entire way to his car.

From the driver’s seat, he sent two texts.

_ It’s Derek, your fake date. -D _

_ Are you free tomorrow night? -D _

**Author's Note:**

> There may be a second part? Depending on what everyone's response is?
> 
> Kudos and comments are always welcome!
> 
> Thanks for reading!!


End file.
